


Five times a fantasy and one...

by pi_meson



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-27 00:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10798260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pi_meson/pseuds/pi_meson
Summary: Hey my first ever go at a five plus one format!PrompthereYuuri/Victor + NSFW, 5 and 1 Yuuri jacks off to fantasies about VictorFive times Yuuri masturbates to fantasies about Victor, and one time fantasy becomes reality. Preferably no internalized homophobia or no focus on gender/sexuality, and more focus on Yuuri’s fantasies.Bonus: One (or more) of the times involve ~inspiration from Yuuri’s poster collection.





	1. Twelve

Yuuri woke and it was still not quite light yet. He blinked a couple of times, rolling over and focusing on the grey tones of his room: corners and edges, the dark void of the half-open cupboard that might lead anywhere, the outlines of the posters on his walls. 

He should go right back to sleep, he told himself, because he had school then skating with Yu-chan. They'd watched Victor's latest short programme on TV together a couple of nights earlier, the live broadcast from Moscow reaching them in the early hours, sneaking into Yu-chan's parents' living room to put the TV on quiet and they'd huddled under a blanket to stare and sigh.

It was Yu-chan's job to find a copy of Victor's music, and Yuuri would construct a facsimile of his programme from codes scribbled in the dark, eyes refusing even a glance away from the beautiful skater out of reach on the screen a scant foot from his face.

He blinked again. The biggest poster, the full-body one of Victor in a sheer costume, head thrown back and eyes half-lidded in the sheer ecstasy of his art, was the one easiest to see from Yuuri's pillow. He smiled at Victor's image and imagined what it might be like to skate a perfect copy of his idol's performance, what it would be like for Victor to see and to recognise a kindred spirit, for surely that's what they were.

Yuuri shifted in bed, closing his eyes, face warming as he realised where his thoughts were leading his body. He turned face down, hips pressed into the sheet below him and face groaning into his pillow. To his mind, the weight of the covers on his back was a gentle caress and the pillow Victor's face waiting to be kissed. 

It only took a few moments. Yuuri lay with cooling damp between his belly and the sheet for a couple of minutes then got out of bed to change into clean pyjamas and pop the fitted sheet from his mattress. He was almost a teenager and old enough to figure out how to use the washing machine.


	2. Fourteen

Yuuri told himself it wasn't a terrible habit, and the fact that he had not breathed a word of it to anyone, not even Yu-chan, _especially_ not Yu-chan in case she told that ass Takeshi who would laugh at him, didn't mean he should feel guilty. 

He told himself, lying back on his soft covers, bedroom door firmly closed, safe in the knowledge that Mari was at college and his parents were busy with customers at their hot spring, that it was a harmless fantasy.

Yuuri gazed at his favourite poster. It wasn't the same one, but it had the same subject. This time, Victor was frozen in mid-air, edges blurred by the speed of his rotation, one arm raised and one at his waist, eyes closed and a faint smile gracing his lips.

Yuuri thought about those lips a lot.

Yuuri imagined those lips on his, arms around his neck then hands slipping down his chest to his pants. He mimicked his fantasy, stroking hands down his clothed body, unfastening his jeans and slipping inside to touch himself, pressing the flat of his palm over his erection and biting his lip.

Closing his eyes made the fantasy more real. He gave himself a few lazy strokes then paused, breaking his concentration to listen out for footsteps, voices, anything that might spoil his imaginary moment with his imaginary Victor. But no sounds came to him. Nothing threatened to disturb his daydream.

He sighed, shuffled his hips and pushed his jeans and shorts down, pulled his shirt out of the way.  
_He sees me skate and calls me over._  
_He tells me he is impressed that I skate so well_  
_He invites me to... to... to join him in the changing room_  
_He kisses me HARD ohfucksohard_  
_He says he wants me and I... I... Oooohoohoooohhh_

Yuuri lay back for a minute, letting his breathing and his grin settle. He cleaned himself up, fixed his clothing and worried just a little that, when he appeared at Ice Castle Hasetsu for practice, somehow Yu-chan would _know._


	3. Twenty-one

Phitchit grabbed Yuuri around the neck with one arm, hoisted his phone with the other, ordered a smile and snapped a selfie. Yuuri laughed and rubbed his neck.  
"Phichit-kun! That settles it. I'm buying you a selfie-stick tomorrow. Why do you need so many photos?"  
Phichit laughed and pushed Yuuri playfully. "Because I want to remember how much fun you are!"  
"Me?" Yuuri went pink. "No!"  
"Yes!" Phichit insisted. "Yuuri-kun makes me laugh. Hey, want to go back home and listen to some music? Skating music?"

Of course Yuuri did. They walked back from campus to their dorm hand in hand, chatting and laughing. It was Phichit who mentioned Victor Nikiforov and pulled Yuuri to a standstill when Yuuri's hand clenched tight.  
"Oh! Oh you like him so much! Ha! He is such a talent, isn't he?"  
Yuuri smiled, suddenly warm and shy. "Yes, he is an amazing performer. I wish I could be as good as Victor. Then maybe–" Yuuri looked down. "Never mind."

Phichit held Yuuri tight for a couple of seconds, knowing that longer risked making his best friend uncomfortable.  
"You _really_ like Victor, don't you?"

Yuuri refused to speak until they were safely inside their little apartment. Phichit made tea, fed his hamsters and reassured his almost-boyfriend.  
"Yuuri! It's okay. Your crush! It's cute and I'm okay with it! Crushes are normal and funny. Want to hear about _my_ crush? Oooh! Want to pretend _I'm_ Victor later when we–"

And it really was okay. Yuuri and Phichit spent the evening listening to the soundtrack from _The King and the Skater_ and talking about nothing much at all except Victor's choreography and Victor's costumes and Victor's perfection. Phichit breathed gently, fast asleep next to Yuuri, and Yuuri tried so hard to ignore the sound as he gave in to the fantasy that Victor lay beside him on their little sofa. 

Yuuri got up carefully, threw the covers from his own bed over Phichit and locked himself in the bathroom to bring himself off with harsh light and unhappiness.


	4. Twenty Three (1)

"Watch me."

Yuuri took position in the centre of the deserted ice. He mentally counted in, cued music in his head and started the routine he knew so well from having watched it so many, many times. Skating Victor's free skate programme made his mind settle, his cares receded until all that existed was flowing movement and swelling music. He looked at Yu-chan, a little nervously in case she hated it, hated him for having given up for a lesser reason than hers. As he skated over to explain himself, her joy came into focus and he laughed. He'd be okay.

At home Yuuri was allowed to be quiet, allowed to slip off to his room after dinner to be on his own. He lay back on his bed, eyes darting around the familiar room with its lived-in mess and posters. He nodded at the newest one, Victor in his pink costume from the same routine Yuuri had performed in part for his friend, but mostly for himself. He mused on what he might say to Victor.

_I'm coming back, Victor._  
_I will get to see you again and maybe I will say hello, introduce myself._  
_Why are you so perfect? How did you get to be my god?_  
_Kiss me._

Maybe it was the way Victor's eyes seemed to be looking right at him out of the flat sheen of the paper. Yuuri met that illusory gaze and let his mind drift until he was standing with Victor on the ice at a deserted Ice Castle Hasetsu. They'd just skated a pairs programme that ended with their faces inches apart, and Yuuri repeated his request.

_Kiss me, Victor!_

Of course dream-Victor did. Closing his eyes, Yuuri pressed the back of his hand over his lips and imagined how a kiss from Victor would feel. His lips would be soft, warm, eager. His hands would hold Yuuri's head, fingers woven in his hair, then slowly move lower, stroking down his back and pulling their hips flush.

Yuuri gave a soft whimper around the hand covering his mouth. He moved his free hand to his growing erection and imagined that the pressure he applied there was from Victor's lithe body, still warm from the exertion of their skate. He imagined they would touch each other, explore with gentle caresses that would develop into something needy, something desperate. They would somehow make it to the storage room where he and dream-Victor would wriggle their hips clear of their training clothes. Victor would push Yuuri back against the door to hold it closed, lean against him, kiss him harder. Yuuri imagined dream-Victor smiling, face flushing a little, eyes dark with dilated pupils. 

Whatever Yuuri imagined he wanted Victor to do, he acted on himself, pushing his joggers down just far enough and parting his legs. He grasped his erect cock with one hand and teased his balls with the other, slowing down when he was close, prolonging the fantasy as long as he could stand. Breathing hard, he turned his face sideways into the pillow to stop himself from crying out as he came.

He allowed himself a couple of minutes after the illusion evaporated to lie still and think of holding Victor close, murmuring quiet endearments and confessions of his long adoration. It couldn't last. His phone clamoured for his attention and although he didn't answer it made his mind move on to other, more real, matters. He tidied up then sighed at Victor's image. A hot prickle of embarrassed guilt rose up under his temporary contentment.

_Ah Victor, would you hate me if you knew?_


	5. Twenty three (2)

Yuuri was as incredulous as all Victor's other fans. Victor was _here._

He'd arrived without warning, used the hot spring, eaten and fallen asleep on the floor wearing a borrowed robe, woken up and asked for more food. He was at home anywhere and everywhere. Yuuri carried his belongings to the best room they had and knelt on the floor, hot and damp with the effort of lifting and carrying. 

Victor had stroked Yuuri's face, taken his hand, spoken softly to ask Yuuri about himself.

_Let's build some trust in our relationship._

And he'd panicked, shot backwards out of the room, away from Victor's touch, bolted to his room and stood with his back to the door, sucking in deep shuddery breaths.

_Yuuri, let's sleep together!_

Yuuri let out a yell, _"No!"_ stomach churning and cheeks burning at the thought Victor might come in and see. He pelted around the room, pulling posters from the walls and the cupboard doors, lifting framed photographs, all of his idol. He knelt on his bed, looking down at the pile of images of Victor. His favourite was on top. Perhaps he would allow himself to keep just that one.

He barely slept. Victor was _here_ and he came for _him._ Yuuri woke in the night with his heart pounding so hard he could almost hear it and his head full of possibilities. He counted breaths, made himself calm down. The lone photo was under his pillow. He could sense the paper crinkling as he moved to lie on his side, hugging the covers. Instead of taking it out to gaze at its flat, dim beauty, Yuuri closed his eyes and focused on the real and oh so solid Victor who slept in a room close by. 

Victor, utterly naked and unashamed, standing to greet him. Victor asleep on the floor with the borrowed robe showing a deep vee of pale skin on his chest and making a display of Victor's long, lean, muscular legs. Victor sitting up sleepily and saying he was hungry, the loose robe slipping from his perfect shoulder. Victor touching his face and his hand and asking to sleep with him.

_Ah but what if I'd said yes?_

Then Victor would be beside him in this big-enough-for-one bed instead of on a mat on the floor of his own room. Victor would roll into the dip in the middle and rest against him, maybe throw an arm around him and kiss him, or hold him tight and pull him on top, thrust gently against him and make _that face_ when they both came at the same time, the face Yuuri liked so much from his favourite photograph.

 _Last time,_ Yuuri silently promised, thinking as he slid his hand into his shorts that he didn't need the posters any more. Victor was _here._ He kept it quick in case Victor woke and came looking for him. 

Perhaps his new fantasy could be a version of himself who was not afraid to tell Victor of the happiness he felt.


	6. Almost twenty-four

Yuuri lay awake, wondering if it was real. The competition he'd fretted about all the previous night was over, he had a new personal best for his short programme and his free skate had gone so well that Victor had...

Had he?

Yuuri pressed his fingertips to his lips and smiled behind them. Yes, the memory was real and vivid. Victor had kissed him.

He felt high, light. He almost giggled.

Nearby, Yuuri could make out the shape that was Victor, sleeping in the other bed of the twin room. He watched Victor for a full minute, let his mind drift back to the moment after his performance, the second he realised Victor's lips were pressed to his _in front of everyone!_ and...

And Yuuri closed his eyes and turned away. It was a kiss, just a kiss. It didn't have to mean anything, like the hugs Yuuri gave when he needed comfort didn't have to mean anything more than _right now I need this._

Yuuri's elation wavered then crashed into a pit of insecure fears. He bit his knuckle and screwed up his eyes to stave off the sobs that might wake Victor. He heard the rustle of cotton sheets as Victor stirred and sighed, and held his breath.

 _"Yuuri, what's wrong?"_  
Victor's voice was barely a whisper. After a pause, louder, "Yuuri? I know you're awake."  
"It's nothing. Go back to sleep."  
A creak and another rustle, two footsteps, weight dipping the side of Yuuri's bed where Victor knelt.  
"Move over."

It was harder for Yuuri's fears to break through when he was lying with his head on Victor's shoulder, Victor's arms around him, Victor's reassuring and very real presence in his bed.  
"What's keeping you awake? I thought you'd sleep soundly after your performance. Were you disappointed with silver?"  
"Oh, it's not that." Yuuri wondered what to say. Undecided, he said nothing more.  
"What can I do to help you sleep? Hmm?"

Yuuri lifted his head, propped himself up on one elbow and looked at Victor's face, wakeful eyes well-adjusted to the red light that glowed from the over-bright digital display of the hotel alarm clock and the green LED of the smoke detector above them. Victor smiled and Yuuri leaned down to kiss him gently on his lips. He let the touch linger. Victor sat up a little and Yuuri shuffled back, an apology ready, but Victor stroked Yuuri's cheek and kissed him again. Yuuri let Victor guide him to lie back and he pushed his hands into Victor's hair, feeling the fine strands slip between his fingers, closing his eyes and accepting another kiss. He thought nothing could be better than having Victor so comfortably close, so easy to be with that they could be so affectionate with each other and...

_Oh!_

Yuuri took a sharp breath in when Victor's hand covered his half-erect cock. Victor moved his hand away, back to caress the crest of Yuuri's hip.  
"Too much?"  
Yuuri bit his lip and a frown creased his face for a second. Victor sighed and rolled onto his back. "I'm sorry. I'll let you sleep."

"No!"  
Yuuri reached for Victor to hold him, stop him from taking his warmth back to his own bed. Victor lay still. Yuuri took Victor's hand and kissed it, wondering if Victor would feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.  
"I want this."

Victor shifted onto his side and faced Yuuri with a smile. In a few seconds, Yuuri's hands were back in Victor's hair and Victor's lips were on his. This time Yuuri reacted with a soft giggle when Victor touched him, stroking him fully erect and cupping a hand under his balls. Victor laughed when Yuuri's fingers wandered down over his chest and stomach.  
"It tickles!"  
"Sorry, sorry!"  
"I like it."  
"Okay."  
Yuuri repeated the gentle trail down Victor's stomach until they mirrored one another, face to face on the same pillow, each spoiling the other with slow strokes and soft kisses. Victor sensed when Yuuri was close, shuffling down the bed out of reach to tease with lips and tongue. Yuuri stuttered out a warning and came, fist stopping his cries.

"Maybe you'll sleep better now, hmm?"  
Yuuri flushed sudden red with embarrassed anger. His voice almost cracked. "Is that all this was? Something to help me sleep?"  
Victor consoled immediately with a hug and a kiss. "No! Yuuri, why would you think that?"  
Yuuri groaned, he'd spoiled it. He'd got what he'd fantasised about and broken it with words. Victor sighed.  
"Now I'm going to have to go back to my own bed and worry that Yuuri thinks I don't love him. The heartbreak! I will never sleep now."  
Yuuri smiled and stroked Victor's stomach. 

"Maybe there is something I can do to help you sleep too."

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't aiming for _sexy_ in this fic.


End file.
